


Liaison

by penny



Category: Final Fantasy XII, Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crossover, F/F, Frottage, challenge: kinkfest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-15
Updated: 2008-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-03 10:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penny/pseuds/penny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawkeye and Drace and tipsy bathroom frottage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liaison

**Author's Note:**

> For (IJ) kinkfest prompt _Crossover: Final Fantasy XII/Fullmetal Alchemist - Drace/Hawkeye - corporate ratracing - godspeed and may your plane crash into the fucking Atlantic_

Their liaisons could ruin both of their careers. It's not so much because they're both women -- it's not _acceptable_, but the law provides some small protection -- but rather the fact they work for direct competitors. Though the House of Solidor is the older and more established company (respectable, Drace says, and Hawkeye hears the unspoken "superior"), the Amestris Trading Company is the better company. The sooner Hawkeye convinces Drace of that...

...well, their encounters would change.

Drace's fingers are tight in her hair, nails scraping against her scalp. She's aggressive, but no less than Hawkeye, who has her knee between Drace's thighs, Drace pinned against the stall door. They can't take long. They both have coworkers waiting back in the bar -- Hawkeye's to celebrate her getting the Armstrong account, Drace's to mourn the loss of Armstrong to that ATC upstart.

The taste of whisky lingers on Drace's lips. Hawkeye drinks it in, drinks in Drace's low, soft moans. The restroom door opens. She and Drace are both listening for it, so they both tense, but neither breaks the kiss. Drace falls silent, tugs harder at Hawkeye's hair, finally pulling it loose from its clip. Hawkeye shudders and grinds against Drace. Her own cunt throbs, and she wishes...

...well, she wishes they weren't humping in a stall in the Sandsea's restroom.

Drace tenses, and Hawkeye feels her come. Her fingers tighten to the point of pain, but Hawkeye refuses to wince, and soon enough, Drace relaxes, lets her hands slip from Hawkeye's hair. She breaks the kiss, and Hawkeye draws back. Her lips feel swollen and tender, and if she looks anything like Drace...

...well, it's a good thing she's here with Mustang and Havoc. Even if they suspect, they'll keep it secret. And since Drace allowed this encounter, her companions are as trustworthy as Hawkeye's.

Drace holds her gaze while they both catch their breath. Her expression is still slightly playful -- a quirk of her lips more than anything else -- and Hawkeye can't help her own small smile. She and Drace will never truly be friends -- they're too competitive for that -- but they enjoy what they do have.

They wait until their intruder finishes her business and leaves the restroom. Then Drace slips from the stall. Caution makes Hawkeye wait. She's certain they're alone, but it's possible they missed hearing someone else come in.

When she joins Drace at the sinks, Drace has already smoothed her hair. Hawkeye twines her own hair back into her clip and splashes some water on her face. Her eyes are still a little too bright, cheeks a little too flushed, lips a little swollen, but in the dim light in the Sandsea, the flush can be explained away with another drink.

"I'll take that account from you."

Hawkeye looks up and meets Drace's eyes in the mirror. "No you won't. I'll take such good care of them, they'll never leave Amestris."

"House of Solidor has more to offer."

"Apparently not, since I got the account." She pats her face dry and flashes Drace a smirk Mustang would be proud of. "I suppose I should be nice and buy your team a round. It will have to be my last. I have an early flight to London."

Drace quirks an eyebrow. There's a challenge in her eyes. Hawkeye wants to meet it, but they're already lingered too long in here. "Godspeed," Drace says, low and serious.

Hawkeye nods and crosses to the door and has her hand on the handle when Drace says, "I fly to Tokyo on the twenty-third."

Hawkeye smiles. "I may have reason to fly to Seattle then."

"I'll have a layover there."

"How fortunate. What's the account, or are you afraid I'll steal it from you?"

Drace snorts. "May your plane crash into the fucking Atlantic."

"Save it for when the right people from the House of Solidor are listening."

Drace's laughter follows her out of the restroom.


End file.
